Little known fact: I am an insomniac and create playlists when trying to fall asleep on the road so if I create them in excess, please forgive. This playlist is a combination of what's been shuffling around my iPod at the moment. Noonday Underground's "Boy Like a Timebomb" will be stuck in your head after one listen, it's fantastic. I have been a huge fan of The Dead Milkmen since high school ever since an ex-boyfriend told me they would change my life. Other additions including Wilco and Siouxsie and the Banshees are absolute musts.Any idea? No? Okay, I'm going to tell you - the insomniac, Banshees'-loving, Hornby-emulating girl is none other than Meghan McCain, daughter of current presidental nominee John McCain (R-AZ). McCain, along with two other girls, are documenting the campaign trail over at McCainBlogette, where you can follow an onging feature called Blogette Playlists.
I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't surprised to see Sleater-Kinney, TV On The Radio and Pulp on Meghan's lists. There's nothing odd about a twenty-something woman loving Modest Mouse or Garng of Four or the Stooges - but when you look at who her dad is, I sort of assumed she'd be the kind of person who loves Shania Twain or listens to Bruce Springsteen unironically. Or follow in daddy's footsteps and like ABBA. (Okay, ABBA is awesome. But that quote is just too good to pass)
But c'mon! Even I can't find much to criticise about her music taste. These playlists are actually good, and full of interesting tidbits. Want to know how winning a Florida Primary feels? "It feels like The Doors song 'Break on Through'..." And how appropriate is her choice of Smiths song? (Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want).
This is in no way an endorsement for McCain *shudder*. But hey, we Siouxsie and the Banshees fans are few and far between, so kudos, Meghan McCain!
Showing posts with label siouxsie and the banshees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label siouxsie and the banshees. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Meghan is a Punk Rocker
Who said this?
Thursday, December 13, 2007
And her soul walks beside her...
The ending of a film is really important. Unexpected twists are fine when utilised properly (and disasterous when they're lazy or poorly conceieved) but I'm referring rather to the moment when the screen fades to black, usually with musical accompaniment; if it's done well, it can be overpowering, surprising, beautiful, moving, funny or a combination of all three. It goes without saying that music is integral to this process. A good example I can think of is "Imagine Me And You" playing at the end of Adaptation. Another, more recent film would be The Golden Compass. Of course, I knew Kate Bush was contributing a song to the film, but I'd forgotten and so was thrilled when it began to play over the credits. I haven't been that pleasantly surprised during a credits sequence since Siouxsie and the Banshees turned up and the end of the greatgreatgreat Monster House.
"Lyra" was written by Kate especially for the film, and you can tell. Some of the lyrics aren't the greatest ("Lyra...and her face..." is especially laugh-worthy). But she only had 10 days to write and record it, which is a stunning achievement for a noted perfectionist like her. And it is beautiful. Her voice has matured so well, if you listen back to some of the earlier recordings of Wuthering Heights, she sounds like she's strangling herself sometimes (in a good way, of course) but in "Lyra" you can really appreciate her vocals. There's not much of a tune, so if you're a die-hard tunesmith this probably won't tickle your pickle. But for those who appreciate a bit of ambience and fans of Kate Bush will certainly enjoy it (that's two for me, then).
Anyway, the point of this was to look at the songs eligible for the Oscars. The full list can be read with disgust here. There's nary a decent song on there (save for about three or four), so I'm crossing my toes in hope "Lyra" gets a nod. Purely to see Kate at the ceremony, because that woman is downwright crazy and brilliant and it could be the funniest performance since "It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp".
"Lyra" was written by Kate especially for the film, and you can tell. Some of the lyrics aren't the greatest ("Lyra...and her face..." is especially laugh-worthy). But she only had 10 days to write and record it, which is a stunning achievement for a noted perfectionist like her. And it is beautiful. Her voice has matured so well, if you listen back to some of the earlier recordings of Wuthering Heights, she sounds like she's strangling herself sometimes (in a good way, of course) but in "Lyra" you can really appreciate her vocals. There's not much of a tune, so if you're a die-hard tunesmith this probably won't tickle your pickle. But for those who appreciate a bit of ambience and fans of Kate Bush will certainly enjoy it (that's two for me, then).
Anyway, the point of this was to look at the songs eligible for the Oscars. The full list can be read with disgust here. There's nary a decent song on there (save for about three or four), so I'm crossing my toes in hope "Lyra" gets a nod. Purely to see Kate at the ceremony, because that woman is downwright crazy and brilliant and it could be the funniest performance since "It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp".
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Halloween Top Ten
I’m going as a hypocrite this year. A few days ago I waxed lyrical about how I can’t make lists, but yet here I go compiling one. I thought about making a top ten favourite Halloweenish films, but I decided it would be too hard to think of ten I really loved. I settled on music, and my top ten spooky-songs. I set myself some conditions, though. There would be no horror film themes (buh bye, Exorcist) and absolutely no blindingly obvious selections (see ya, Monster Mash). Finally, Thriller is forbidden. Now, without any further ado, I now present to you…
10. The North American Halloween Prevention Initiative - “Do They Know It’s Halloween?”
See previous post.
09. Elvira - “The Monster Rap”
My sole cheesy selection. I’m really a sucker for awful raps and you can’t get any more brilliantly awful than the Vogue-style one that we’re treated to halfway. The rhymes are toe-curlingly awful, but they’re delivered with such gusto you can’t help to go along with her. It’s probably overplayed to hell in some places, but not in my circles.
“Baby there's a monster livin' inside of you, and me!
Baby there's a monster livin' inside just dieing to be free!”
08. Bette Davis - “I’ve Written A Letter To Daddy”
I’ve restricted myself on the movie themes, but sticking this one in was too hard to resist. Is it creepy? Hilarious? Depressing? All three,really, which is where the disconcerting feel comes from. “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?” is a favourite horror film of mine (although it’s really not scary at all) and this is the centrepiece. Davis’ creepy ballet-poise, total fervour and terrible warbling voice, with her shadow flickering on the wall, add up to a strange viewing experience. When the camera cuts away to Joan Crawford looking confused and uneasy, we know exactly how she feels.
“I've written a letter to Daddy, his address is heaven above”
07. Sonic Youth - “Death Valley 69”
This whole album could be included on this list. From it’s cover picture of a giant pumpkin to the general Atumnal air, Sonic Youth have never been more season-appropriate. Starts with a howl and a grumbling guitar riff before descending into an art-rawk duet about murdering your girlfriend (or something). It’s a mess, but great to sing along to.
“Deep in the valley
In the trunk of an old car…”
06. DJ Shadow - “Endtroducing…”
I wanted to include David Lynch in here somewhere and thought about including some of the Twin Peaks music. I decided against, though. Instead, I’ve chosen an entire album; the fabulously dreamlike collection of samples by DJ Shadow. It’s an astonishing listen, feels like a messed-up nightmare and ends with The Giant (from Twin Peaks) intoning “It is happening again…it is happening again…”.
05. PJ Harvey & Nick Cave - “Henry Lee”
A little part of Halloween is kind of romantic, don’t ya think? Polly Jean and Nick Cave were probably the strangest/best-suited rock ‘n roll couple ever. Their relationship didn’t last, but it left behind some wonderful music. Solo albums by each detail their love and the subsequent break-up, but it’s hard to get any better than this duet. The harmonies are exquisite, the sense of doomed love palpable (even though the lyrics have nothing to do romance) and in the video, the pair come across as a pair of courting vampires.
“And with a little pen-knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through
And the wind did roar and the wind did moan”
04. Tori Amos - “’97 Bonnie & Clyde”
Scary. Scary. Scary. Out of all of my selections, this is the one that freaks me out the most. Not just the idea of Tori covering a Eminem song, but the actual song itself is terrifying. She descreses the tempo to a dreadful slowness, wallowing in the domestic violence storyline. Her voice hs never been more full of evil and dread. The Hitchcockian strings in the background, the hint of violence that enters her voice, the keening chorus….*shiver*
“Your dad'll wake her up as soon as we get to the water
Ninety-seven Bonnie and Clyde, me and my daughter”
03. Buck 65 - “463”
Not a conventional choice, perhaps. “463” could be about baseball, could be about small-time life, could be about broken dreams, or could be about nothing at all (which Buck himself has admitted). Still, songs have personal meanings and I immediately associated this with All Hallows Eve. He references Halloween in the first couple of lines and then riffs on a number of topics, but it’s that reference that sticks in my head.
“Why, when I was a kid,
Playing in the ditches
Living in fear of satan and the witches”
02. Talking Heads - “Psycho Killer”
Something a little more funkier, after the last couple of rather depressing choices. Amazingly, this was the first song David Byrne wrote with the rest of the band and it’s one of their most iconic songs. Singing a song from the perspective of a serial killer isn’t anything novel, but it’s Byrne’s pop-eyed delivery and that bass-line that make this song great.
“I can’t sleep because my bed’s on fire
Don’t touch me I’m a real live wire.”
01. Siouxsie and the Banshees - “Halloween”
Obviously. It couldn’t be anything else, really. My favourite band with a song that perfectly encapsulates the holiday. The Banshees, despite their name and style of dress, were never the cartoonish shlock-Goths they’re sometimes made out to be. Their music is rarely morose or overtly-introspective (ie: they have nothing nothing nothing to do with Marilyn Manson or My Chemical Romance) but sometimes the season calls for a bit of spooky self-indulging.
"Trick or treat
Trick or treat,
The bitter and sweet..."
Happy Halloween, all.
Top Ten Sp0o0o0o0o0o0oky Songs that Remind Me Of Halloween
10. The North American Halloween Prevention Initiative - “Do They Know It’s Halloween?”
See previous post.
09. Elvira - “The Monster Rap”
My sole cheesy selection. I’m really a sucker for awful raps and you can’t get any more brilliantly awful than the Vogue-style one that we’re treated to halfway. The rhymes are toe-curlingly awful, but they’re delivered with such gusto you can’t help to go along with her. It’s probably overplayed to hell in some places, but not in my circles.
“Baby there's a monster livin' inside of you, and me!
Baby there's a monster livin' inside just dieing to be free!”
08. Bette Davis - “I’ve Written A Letter To Daddy”
I’ve restricted myself on the movie themes, but sticking this one in was too hard to resist. Is it creepy? Hilarious? Depressing? All three,really, which is where the disconcerting feel comes from. “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?” is a favourite horror film of mine (although it’s really not scary at all) and this is the centrepiece. Davis’ creepy ballet-poise, total fervour and terrible warbling voice, with her shadow flickering on the wall, add up to a strange viewing experience. When the camera cuts away to Joan Crawford looking confused and uneasy, we know exactly how she feels.
“I've written a letter to Daddy, his address is heaven above”
07. Sonic Youth - “Death Valley 69”
This whole album could be included on this list. From it’s cover picture of a giant pumpkin to the general Atumnal air, Sonic Youth have never been more season-appropriate. Starts with a howl and a grumbling guitar riff before descending into an art-rawk duet about murdering your girlfriend (or something). It’s a mess, but great to sing along to.
“Deep in the valley
In the trunk of an old car…”
06. DJ Shadow - “Endtroducing…”
I wanted to include David Lynch in here somewhere and thought about including some of the Twin Peaks music. I decided against, though. Instead, I’ve chosen an entire album; the fabulously dreamlike collection of samples by DJ Shadow. It’s an astonishing listen, feels like a messed-up nightmare and ends with The Giant (from Twin Peaks) intoning “It is happening again…it is happening again…”.
05. PJ Harvey & Nick Cave - “Henry Lee”
A little part of Halloween is kind of romantic, don’t ya think? Polly Jean and Nick Cave were probably the strangest/best-suited rock ‘n roll couple ever. Their relationship didn’t last, but it left behind some wonderful music. Solo albums by each detail their love and the subsequent break-up, but it’s hard to get any better than this duet. The harmonies are exquisite, the sense of doomed love palpable (even though the lyrics have nothing to do romance) and in the video, the pair come across as a pair of courting vampires.
“And with a little pen-knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through
And the wind did roar and the wind did moan”
04. Tori Amos - “’97 Bonnie & Clyde”
Scary. Scary. Scary. Out of all of my selections, this is the one that freaks me out the most. Not just the idea of Tori covering a Eminem song, but the actual song itself is terrifying. She descreses the tempo to a dreadful slowness, wallowing in the domestic violence storyline. Her voice hs never been more full of evil and dread. The Hitchcockian strings in the background, the hint of violence that enters her voice, the keening chorus….*shiver*
“Your dad'll wake her up as soon as we get to the water
Ninety-seven Bonnie and Clyde, me and my daughter”
03. Buck 65 - “463”
Not a conventional choice, perhaps. “463” could be about baseball, could be about small-time life, could be about broken dreams, or could be about nothing at all (which Buck himself has admitted). Still, songs have personal meanings and I immediately associated this with All Hallows Eve. He references Halloween in the first couple of lines and then riffs on a number of topics, but it’s that reference that sticks in my head.
“Why, when I was a kid,
Playing in the ditches
Living in fear of satan and the witches”
02. Talking Heads - “Psycho Killer”
Something a little more funkier, after the last couple of rather depressing choices. Amazingly, this was the first song David Byrne wrote with the rest of the band and it’s one of their most iconic songs. Singing a song from the perspective of a serial killer isn’t anything novel, but it’s Byrne’s pop-eyed delivery and that bass-line that make this song great.
“I can’t sleep because my bed’s on fire
Don’t touch me I’m a real live wire.”
01. Siouxsie and the Banshees - “Halloween”
Obviously. It couldn’t be anything else, really. My favourite band with a song that perfectly encapsulates the holiday. The Banshees, despite their name and style of dress, were never the cartoonish shlock-Goths they’re sometimes made out to be. Their music is rarely morose or overtly-introspective (ie: they have nothing nothing nothing to do with Marilyn Manson or My Chemical Romance) but sometimes the season calls for a bit of spooky self-indulging.
"Trick or treat
Trick or treat,
The bitter and sweet..."
Happy Halloween, all.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
List-less
Although something of a music nerd, I was never fully a part of the whole obsessive list-making gig promoted by Nick Hornby and his ilk. Don’t get me wrong, I like reading and debating lists of the top 100 punk albums from 1077, or the worst music videos ever, or whatever. But when it comes to compiling one of my own, I get stuck in a rut and grow bored with my subject matter. List-making is not one of my fortes, it seems inherently both too masculine and too mathematical for me to sink my teeth into. I’m currently mentally assessing the 25 or so films I’ve seen this year and wondering how many will appear on my Best of 2007 list (I hesitate to call it an end-of-year list as there’s no conceivable way I could see all the films I want by January, such a list will probably surface in February, around Oscar-time. That’s how long it’ll take me to catch up on dvds and such.) and I’m dreading the inevitable need to rank one above the other. That’s not to say I never rank things, though - I’ve just found evidence to the contrary.
Whilst going through some old files, I came across a personal list of my top ten albums of all time, circa 2004. There was no real point in compiling a list like this, but I’m glad I took the time to write it back then. It offers up some interesting thoughts. Here’s what it looks like:
1. Jennifer Warnes - Famous Blue Raincoat
2. David Bowie - The Man Who Sold The World
3. Nirvana - Unplugged in New York
4. Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes
5. Radiohead - Kid A
6. Elvis Costello and the Attractions - Armed Forces
7. Siouxsie and the Banshees - Peepshow
8. The Smiths - The Smiths
9. Velvet Underground - VU and Nico
10. PJ Harvey - Stories from the city, Stories from the Sea
Reading over it, I come to two conclusions: despite what I think, my musical taste hasn’t evolved that much in three years, and damn- I listen to an awful lot of white music. There’s not one hip-hop, jazz or soul record on that list, which would definitely change if I were making an equivalent list today. There’s nothing classical, either. At least it’s fairly evenly split between male & female and it’s not confined to just one decade, which is a plus. I’ve got to remember that back then, I had only heard a fraction of the music I’ve heard today. I was in the process of discovering new bands to obsess on and I was in my early stages of worship. The Smiths are still a band I’d swear by, but their self-titled debut isn’t their best album, their most influential one, or even my favourite one. I can barely stand listening to it nowadays, although there are a handful of classic songs, the production is so tinny and poor that it renders them almost unlistenable. I suspect that, at the time of writing, their debut was the only Smiths album I owned; but I was still able to sense that they would go on to create great things. Right now, it’d be a toss up between Meat is Murder or Strangeways for a current placing.
As I don’t distinctly remember making this list, I have no idea whether it’s meant to be in any kind of order. I severely doubt it, as that would mean I put a covers album as my number one album of all time. Famous Blue Raincoat is a great covers record though; and it certainly appealed to the my seriouser-than-thou adolescent self. Having it at number one makes a lot more sense than my number 6 placing; I don’t even own that album and I can’t remember ever liking it that much. It seems inconceivable that I’d rank it higher than Peepshow, an album which would still easily creep into my current top ten. Putting a Bowie album, let alone a fairly mediocre one, at number 2 is just plain ridiculous. David Bowie has never been an artist who I’ve gone ape-shit over - but this list begs to differ. It’s slightly disconcerting - there was once a Catherine who admired Bowie enough to place him at number two in an All-Time-Great list? Whaaa? It’s a feeling akin to meeting my long-lost twin and realising she has 20/20 vision. What a headfuck.
Okay, getting down to the business of making a similar list today, I can see three of those albums holding on (Little Earthquakes, Kid A, Peepshow). Tori Amos has probably never topped her mainstream debut (what a disheartening thought for an artist), Peepshow still gives me the shivers and Kid A is Radiohead’s triumph (stfu about OK Computer). Seven coveted spaces are left and if I wasn’t thinking about it too hard, they’d be filled with Ys, Music for 18 Musicians, Reachin‘, When the Pawn Hits…, If You’re Feeling Sinister, Gorecki’s 3rd Symphony and Rain Dogs.
Excellent. Brilliant. Completed. What's next?
But wait.
I’m still not entirely happy with that (why have I once again neglected jazz? Where is Poses?! No McGarrigles, Paul Simon or George Winston - my childhood staples? Where are Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, PJ Harvey, Bjork and The Smiths?) Even after a few minutes contemplation, even the original three seem wrong; I think Boys For Pele is a superior Tori album, I just haven’t had as much time to grow into it. I've always defended Amnesiac over Kid A. Is Peepshow really my favourite Banshees album?
I’ve never been able to fully commit to a list; my taste is ever changing and too fluid to really pin down (this could be a positive or a negative thing). Even a quick attempt at this kind of thing proves too much of a headache for a Sunday night. Even as I’ve abandoned it, disembodied voices keep bouncing off my skull, telling me I’ve forgotten them (please shut up, Buck 65). If anyone out there has a top ten list they’re perfectly happy with, feel free to share. I’ll read, comment and debate it - just don’t expect me to share mine.
Whilst going through some old files, I came across a personal list of my top ten albums of all time, circa 2004. There was no real point in compiling a list like this, but I’m glad I took the time to write it back then. It offers up some interesting thoughts. Here’s what it looks like:
1. Jennifer Warnes - Famous Blue Raincoat
2. David Bowie - The Man Who Sold The World
3. Nirvana - Unplugged in New York
4. Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes
5. Radiohead - Kid A
6. Elvis Costello and the Attractions - Armed Forces
7. Siouxsie and the Banshees - Peepshow
8. The Smiths - The Smiths
9. Velvet Underground - VU and Nico
10. PJ Harvey - Stories from the city, Stories from the Sea
Reading over it, I come to two conclusions: despite what I think, my musical taste hasn’t evolved that much in three years, and damn- I listen to an awful lot of white music. There’s not one hip-hop, jazz or soul record on that list, which would definitely change if I were making an equivalent list today. There’s nothing classical, either. At least it’s fairly evenly split between male & female and it’s not confined to just one decade, which is a plus. I’ve got to remember that back then, I had only heard a fraction of the music I’ve heard today. I was in the process of discovering new bands to obsess on and I was in my early stages of worship. The Smiths are still a band I’d swear by, but their self-titled debut isn’t their best album, their most influential one, or even my favourite one. I can barely stand listening to it nowadays, although there are a handful of classic songs, the production is so tinny and poor that it renders them almost unlistenable. I suspect that, at the time of writing, their debut was the only Smiths album I owned; but I was still able to sense that they would go on to create great things. Right now, it’d be a toss up between Meat is Murder or Strangeways for a current placing.
As I don’t distinctly remember making this list, I have no idea whether it’s meant to be in any kind of order. I severely doubt it, as that would mean I put a covers album as my number one album of all time. Famous Blue Raincoat is a great covers record though; and it certainly appealed to the my seriouser-than-thou adolescent self. Having it at number one makes a lot more sense than my number 6 placing; I don’t even own that album and I can’t remember ever liking it that much. It seems inconceivable that I’d rank it higher than Peepshow, an album which would still easily creep into my current top ten. Putting a Bowie album, let alone a fairly mediocre one, at number 2 is just plain ridiculous. David Bowie has never been an artist who I’ve gone ape-shit over - but this list begs to differ. It’s slightly disconcerting - there was once a Catherine who admired Bowie enough to place him at number two in an All-Time-Great list? Whaaa? It’s a feeling akin to meeting my long-lost twin and realising she has 20/20 vision. What a headfuck.
Okay, getting down to the business of making a similar list today, I can see three of those albums holding on (Little Earthquakes, Kid A, Peepshow). Tori Amos has probably never topped her mainstream debut (what a disheartening thought for an artist), Peepshow still gives me the shivers and Kid A is Radiohead’s triumph (stfu about OK Computer). Seven coveted spaces are left and if I wasn’t thinking about it too hard, they’d be filled with Ys, Music for 18 Musicians, Reachin‘, When the Pawn Hits…, If You’re Feeling Sinister, Gorecki’s 3rd Symphony and Rain Dogs.
Excellent. Brilliant. Completed. What's next?
But wait.
I’m still not entirely happy with that (why have I once again neglected jazz? Where is Poses?! No McGarrigles, Paul Simon or George Winston - my childhood staples? Where are Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, PJ Harvey, Bjork and The Smiths?) Even after a few minutes contemplation, even the original three seem wrong; I think Boys For Pele is a superior Tori album, I just haven’t had as much time to grow into it. I've always defended Amnesiac over Kid A. Is Peepshow really my favourite Banshees album?
I’ve never been able to fully commit to a list; my taste is ever changing and too fluid to really pin down (this could be a positive or a negative thing). Even a quick attempt at this kind of thing proves too much of a headache for a Sunday night. Even as I’ve abandoned it, disembodied voices keep bouncing off my skull, telling me I’ve forgotten them (please shut up, Buck 65). If anyone out there has a top ten list they’re perfectly happy with, feel free to share. I’ll read, comment and debate it - just don’t expect me to share mine.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
It's Deborah, not Debbie
So, today I met Debbie Harry, or as she now calls herself, Deborah Harry. Or as millions of people around the globe know her, Blondie. Y'know. Her:
Well, nowadays she looks more like this:
She was in HMV Grafton Street for her first ever European signing. Now, I'm really happy she decided to bestow this honour upon Ireland, but she seriously needs to fire her PR company. Why any popstar of her magnitude would chose Dublin for her first European signing is beyond me; but I'm not exactly complaining. Quentin Tarantino was in HMV last night too. It would have been awesome to queue up to see him, shake his hand and say with a big grin, "Hey, Quentin? You're a cunt."
I ended up buying a copy of her new album, Necessary Evil. Which isn't great, but not as over-produced as I had expected. It's no Mantaray, though.
This is basically our conversation (we were in the first ten people to get stuff signed)
Me: Hi. How's it going? Eh, make it out to Catherine please.
DH: That with a C or a K?
Me: That's a C.
DH: Ah. That's my mother's name, Catherine.
Me: Yeah? It's a good name.
DH: It is, yeah. There you go.
Me: Thanks. Okay, cheers, bye!
DH: See ya.
Riveting stuff. She was cool, but very aloof. I didn't have a camera with me - curses.
Well, nowadays she looks more like this:
She was in HMV Grafton Street for her first ever European signing. Now, I'm really happy she decided to bestow this honour upon Ireland, but she seriously needs to fire her PR company. Why any popstar of her magnitude would chose Dublin for her first European signing is beyond me; but I'm not exactly complaining. Quentin Tarantino was in HMV last night too. It would have been awesome to queue up to see him, shake his hand and say with a big grin, "Hey, Quentin? You're a cunt."I ended up buying a copy of her new album, Necessary Evil. Which isn't great, but not as over-produced as I had expected. It's no Mantaray, though.
This is basically our conversation (we were in the first ten people to get stuff signed)
Me: Hi. How's it going? Eh, make it out to Catherine please.
DH: That with a C or a K?
Me: That's a C.
DH: Ah. That's my mother's name, Catherine.
Me: Yeah? It's a good name.
DH: It is, yeah. There you go.
Me: Thanks. Okay, cheers, bye!
DH: See ya.
Riveting stuff. She was cool, but very aloof. I didn't have a camera with me - curses.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Golly Jeepers!
.....
.....
.....
Excuse me for a moment, I've just recieved my best piece of news of the decade.
Namely, the announcement that original punk-survivor, reluctant inventor of Goth culture, all round good egg and my own personal hero, Siouxsie Sioux, will be releasing her first solo album in September. This is going to be momentous - the flagship single "Into a Swan" lands in August sometime, most likely when I'm in France (her adoped homeland, no less). I'm crossing my fingers, toes, eyes and all internal organs in hope of a world tour.
Watch this space...
.....
.....
Excuse me for a moment, I've just recieved my best piece of news of the decade.
Namely, the announcement that original punk-survivor, reluctant inventor of Goth culture, all round good egg and my own personal hero, Siouxsie Sioux, will be releasing her first solo album in September. This is going to be momentous - the flagship single "Into a Swan" lands in August sometime, most likely when I'm in France (her adoped homeland, no less). I'm crossing my fingers, toes, eyes and all internal organs in hope of a world tour.
Watch this space...
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Chronicles of a music listener
Look around, next time you're on a bus, or in town or on a train. Chances are, every second person you see will be, as Cliff Richard would have it, "Wired for sound". Plugged in to their tiny white boxes, people are happily oblivious of outside noise, scrolling through their music collection with an idle finger, bopping away to an inner soundtrack.
There is no doubt that the advent of Soulseek, iTunes and their ilk are great assets to the modern music listener. They allow people to download music they've never heard before, discover new bands, revisit old classics and build up a music library that our mothers and fathers would never had been able to acquire without a lot of time and money. With the click of a button we can instantly purchase an artist's entire discocraphy. I, myself, am a healthy advocate of the online trend and it has proved useful in checking out the latest trends.
There is a part of me, however, that laments this.
Music is one of the most important things in my life. Many, many people say that but it doesn't take away from the fact that it's true. I listen to music every day; while I'm online, when I'm lying in bed, plugged in to my headphones when I'm on the bus. When I listen to music I love, I make a connection. For example, when I listen to Siouxsie & The Banshees, I can remember being twelve years old, sitting in my friend's house looking at a cassete tape full of Banshee's songs, a battered old cassete with a hand-written cover. And looking at this tape made me unbearably excited and nervous and happy, far more emotion than is natural for an inaminate object. My delight stemmed from the fact that at the time you couldn't get Siouxsie and the Banshees records in Ireland. I remember being enthralled with the handful of songs I could get my hands on and the giddy excitement I felt listening to them. When I finally got my hands on two albums (purchased on a school trip to Italy. It's a testament to my love for this band that the discovery of two of their cds in a dingy record shop in Verona is my happiest memory of this trip) I was head-over-heels. Now, if I had discovered SATB a few years later, I would have been able to hear these songs in one happy rush. While it doesn't really matter how I heard them, I do feel my deep love for the band would be somewhat diminished if I didn't have to wait.
Which is why, as a new project, I am going to relisten to every album I own.
Well, maybe not every album. I don't know if I could bring myself to listen to Sum 41 again, or Linkin Park. But the most of the rest are worthy to listen to again. Glancing over my shelves, I see albums I've neglected, old friends that have lain untouched for far too long, artists that I haven't thought about in years. Sadly, it seems that the internet, while opening up my eyes to a wealth of new bands and genres, has simultaneously dulled my (slightly obsessive) love for music. I'm not the worst offender, by any means. I still purchase albums and fixate on artists, but probably not with the intensity I did before I hopped onto the download-bandwagon. So, without further ado, here we go.
Neil Young, "Harvest"
One Saturday morning, about four years ago, my mam made a trip into town. I had made a request - I asked her to pick up Dirty by Sonic Youth. I was itching to hear some New York art-rawk, and the hipster's seminal 1992 smash seemed to be their most accessible starting off point. I knew where she could get it, a second-hand music stall in the George's Arcade. There, I had longingly lingered over the cover and track-listing for weeks. When my mam returned from her shopping expedition, she handed me the Sonic Youth album, along with another cd.
"Listen to this," she instructed. "I used to love this album."
I looked at the cover, a pale yellow background with the artist and album title in swirling black cursive. Neil Young. Harvest. I knew of Neil Young already, of course. I was familiar with his name, at any rate. Nearly everything I knew, admittedly, had come from my then-obsession with Nirvana, feverishly reading everything I could get my hands on. Young had come up a few times in my readings and I vaguely knew "The Needle And The Damage Done" as a hymn to junkies. I'm sure at the time I was a little doubtful about being handed this folksy album, as I was yearning to listen to the noisy art-rock of the 'Youth. But, I listened duitifully. And I loved.
Harvest is one of Neil Young's quieter albums. Although there are moments of quiet anger and despair, there's none of the raging fury of "Like A Hurricane", no blazing guitar solos or feedback. Nah, this is Neil kicking back with some friends and playing some country-ish guitar songs. It is also one of Neil Young's most popular albums, the back of my version gives a little bit of history, informing me:
Released in February 1972, Harvest quickly captured the national number one slot in sales, and sustained its popularity to become the album best seller of the year. It's most prominent single cut, "Heart of Gold," still stands as Neil Young's most purchased record.
It's easy to ascertain why this album was so popular. It bridges the gap between devout music listener and casual fan with it's stirring choruses, steel guitars and Young's winsome, unusual voice. Was there ever a rocker with such a distinct voice? High, nasal and capable of wrenching his heart around a tune like no other. It's filled with shuffling odes to love and heartbreak ("Heart of Gold") and singalong stompers ("Are You Ready For The Country"). At some moments it's like one big party, with its harmonies and the rustic Americana feel and yet its imbued with quiet moments of introspective like "Old Man". It's impossible, however, to write anything about Harvest with mentioning it's penultimate track, the best song on the album, the beautiful "Needle and the Damage Done".
With the opening guitar and the line "I caught you knocking on my cellar door..", I'm gone. In under two minutes, "Needle..." manages to evoke pity, despair, loss, failure, redemption and hope, all softly delivered over the cyclical guitar line that is still my favourite thing to play on my acoustic. It's utterly beautiful, and so short that when it abruptly stops, I still get a jolt of surprise.
There is no doubt that the advent of Soulseek, iTunes and their ilk are great assets to the modern music listener. They allow people to download music they've never heard before, discover new bands, revisit old classics and build up a music library that our mothers and fathers would never had been able to acquire without a lot of time and money. With the click of a button we can instantly purchase an artist's entire discocraphy. I, myself, am a healthy advocate of the online trend and it has proved useful in checking out the latest trends.
There is a part of me, however, that laments this.
Music is one of the most important things in my life. Many, many people say that but it doesn't take away from the fact that it's true. I listen to music every day; while I'm online, when I'm lying in bed, plugged in to my headphones when I'm on the bus. When I listen to music I love, I make a connection. For example, when I listen to Siouxsie & The Banshees, I can remember being twelve years old, sitting in my friend's house looking at a cassete tape full of Banshee's songs, a battered old cassete with a hand-written cover. And looking at this tape made me unbearably excited and nervous and happy, far more emotion than is natural for an inaminate object. My delight stemmed from the fact that at the time you couldn't get Siouxsie and the Banshees records in Ireland. I remember being enthralled with the handful of songs I could get my hands on and the giddy excitement I felt listening to them. When I finally got my hands on two albums (purchased on a school trip to Italy. It's a testament to my love for this band that the discovery of two of their cds in a dingy record shop in Verona is my happiest memory of this trip) I was head-over-heels. Now, if I had discovered SATB a few years later, I would have been able to hear these songs in one happy rush. While it doesn't really matter how I heard them, I do feel my deep love for the band would be somewhat diminished if I didn't have to wait.
Which is why, as a new project, I am going to relisten to every album I own.
Well, maybe not every album. I don't know if I could bring myself to listen to Sum 41 again, or Linkin Park. But the most of the rest are worthy to listen to again. Glancing over my shelves, I see albums I've neglected, old friends that have lain untouched for far too long, artists that I haven't thought about in years. Sadly, it seems that the internet, while opening up my eyes to a wealth of new bands and genres, has simultaneously dulled my (slightly obsessive) love for music. I'm not the worst offender, by any means. I still purchase albums and fixate on artists, but probably not with the intensity I did before I hopped onto the download-bandwagon. So, without further ado, here we go.
Neil Young, "Harvest"
One Saturday morning, about four years ago, my mam made a trip into town. I had made a request - I asked her to pick up Dirty by Sonic Youth. I was itching to hear some New York art-rawk, and the hipster's seminal 1992 smash seemed to be their most accessible starting off point. I knew where she could get it, a second-hand music stall in the George's Arcade. There, I had longingly lingered over the cover and track-listing for weeks. When my mam returned from her shopping expedition, she handed me the Sonic Youth album, along with another cd.
"Listen to this," she instructed. "I used to love this album."
I looked at the cover, a pale yellow background with the artist and album title in swirling black cursive. Neil Young. Harvest. I knew of Neil Young already, of course. I was familiar with his name, at any rate. Nearly everything I knew, admittedly, had come from my then-obsession with Nirvana, feverishly reading everything I could get my hands on. Young had come up a few times in my readings and I vaguely knew "The Needle And The Damage Done" as a hymn to junkies. I'm sure at the time I was a little doubtful about being handed this folksy album, as I was yearning to listen to the noisy art-rock of the 'Youth. But, I listened duitifully. And I loved.
Harvest is one of Neil Young's quieter albums. Although there are moments of quiet anger and despair, there's none of the raging fury of "Like A Hurricane", no blazing guitar solos or feedback. Nah, this is Neil kicking back with some friends and playing some country-ish guitar songs. It is also one of Neil Young's most popular albums, the back of my version gives a little bit of history, informing me:
Released in February 1972, Harvest quickly captured the national number one slot in sales, and sustained its popularity to become the album best seller of the year. It's most prominent single cut, "Heart of Gold," still stands as Neil Young's most purchased record.
It's easy to ascertain why this album was so popular. It bridges the gap between devout music listener and casual fan with it's stirring choruses, steel guitars and Young's winsome, unusual voice. Was there ever a rocker with such a distinct voice? High, nasal and capable of wrenching his heart around a tune like no other. It's filled with shuffling odes to love and heartbreak ("Heart of Gold") and singalong stompers ("Are You Ready For The Country"). At some moments it's like one big party, with its harmonies and the rustic Americana feel and yet its imbued with quiet moments of introspective like "Old Man". It's impossible, however, to write anything about Harvest with mentioning it's penultimate track, the best song on the album, the beautiful "Needle and the Damage Done".
With the opening guitar and the line "I caught you knocking on my cellar door..", I'm gone. In under two minutes, "Needle..." manages to evoke pity, despair, loss, failure, redemption and hope, all softly delivered over the cyclical guitar line that is still my favourite thing to play on my acoustic. It's utterly beautiful, and so short that when it abruptly stops, I still get a jolt of surprise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
